Christopher Chant and the Goblet of Fire
by Paprika Dreams
Summary: Christopher may not be Chrestomanci yet, but he's already representing his world in a magical tournament. He's always wanted to go to a magic school – Hogwarts sounds perfect.
1. Chapter 1

**Christopher Chant and the Goblet of Fire**

Summary: Christopher may not be Chrestomanci yet, but he's already representing his world in a magical tournament. He's always wanted to go to a magic school – Hogwarts sounds perfect.

AN: This is my first attempt at fanfiction. I absolutely love Diana Wynne Jones, and when I heard she had passed away I wanted to do a story in her honor. I love Christopher Chant and I think he would love Hogwarts. I don't own Christopher or Hogwarts, though.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

There was silence in the Great Hall of Hogwarts. Everyone was staring at Harry Potter, whose name had just emerged from the Goblet of Fire as the Fourth Champion.

Harry was stunned silent as well, as he stumbled up to the front of the hall where his Headmaster, Dumbledore, stood.

"Well… through the door, Harry," Dumbledore said, lacking his usual smile.

The silence continued after Harry left the room, as everyone was trying to figure out how to react to this unexpected development. Suddenly, everyone's attention was drawn to the Goblet once more, as the flames once again turned a bright scarlet. This time, though, instead of merely disgorging a name as it had done four times before, the flames leapt higher and higher until they were towering over everyone in the hall. A clear, bell-like voice rang throughout the hall, saying a strange word that nobody seemed to recognize. Perhaps it was a name? It said, "Chrestomanci."

And then, again, "Chrestomanci."

Some of the students were stirring in their seats, and Dumbledore's eyes were just beginning to resume their usual twinkle, when the voice repeated for the third and last time, "Chrestomanci."

Then the flames were gone and, as everyone blinked at the sudden darkness, they saw that a young man had appeared in front of the goblet, seemingly out of nowhere, without any kind of fanfare or the pop of a typical apparition.

The first thing everyone noticed about this new figure was that he looked ridiculous. Well, perhaps somewhere between ridiculous and regal. He was wearing a tiger skin with various bangles and trinkets on it, a gold band around his head with some kind of brooch pinned to the front, and several gold necklaces, as well as a rope of pearls.

Dumbledore, however, seemed pleased by this development and gave the new arrival a warm smile. "Ah," he said, "So you must be Chrestomanci?"

"Well, yes – I suppose so," the stranger said, glancing around the room, "At least for the moment." He paused, and then asked resignedly, "So, where am I _now_?"

"I believe you would call this world Twelve B," said Dumbledore. "Now, if you could just follow me to where the other champions are waiting, I can explain everything to you there." He glanced over at some of the other people at the front of the hall and added, "You should come as well, my friends. No use explaining more than once."

"Twelve B?" repeated the stranger, as he followed Dumbledore, and some of the other adults at the head table rose to follow him, "Well, that's not too far off, then. At least it's not Eleven. I can wait around for a bit, but there are some people expecting me, and if I don't come back, they'll probably show up here."

"Not to worry," said Dumbledore, smiling slightly as he ushered the young man through the door ahead of him, "I'm sure it will all work out."

Dumbledore and the boy, followed by several others, walked in on a plump older man cheerfully exclaiming, "Harry will just have to do the best he – "

"Madame Maxine!" a silvery haired girl burst out as she strode over to a large woman who had just entered behind Dumbledore, "Zey are saying zat zis little boy is to compete also!"

Madame Maxine drew herself up in an imperious huff. "What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?" She threw a scathing glance at the boy in the tiger skin and added, "And who is zis ruffian zat you greeted so calmly?"

"I'd rather like to know that myself, Dumbledore," said the tall, thin man standing beside her. "Two Hogwarts champions? Three? I don't remember anyone telling me the host school was allowed more than one champion – or have I not read the rules carefully enough?"

He gave a short and nasty laugh.

"C'est impossible," said Madame Maxine, "'Ogwarts cannot 'ave so many champions. It is most unjust. And zis new boy – 'e does not even go to 'Ogwarts!"

"Peculiar, indeed," said the tall man, his cold eyes resting on the stranger, "He looks like he must be too young, as well." His gaze shifted to Dumbledore as he continued, "We were under the impression that your Age Line would keep out the younger contestants, Dumbledore, and that outsiders were not allowed at all," he wore a steely smile but didn't seem very pleased, "Otherwise, we would, of course, have brought along a wider selection of candidates for our own schools."

"It's no one's fault but Potter's, Karkaroff," said a dark man from the corner, "Don't go blaming Dumbledore for Potter's determination to break rules. He has been crossing lines ever since he arrived here – "

"Thank you, Severus," said Dumbledore firmly, "But I believe we have a more important matter to deal with before we can discuss Harry's." He finally turned back to the boy in the tiger-skin, who had been watching the argument with an air of bemusement. "I believe we owe you an explanation," he began.

"Yes, please," agreed the young boy.

"There is a tradition in our world in which our three schools of magic, Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang, get together to hold the Triwizard Tournament, in which a champion is chosen from each of the schools to compete in three tasks. The instrument which we use to choose the champions is called the Goblet of Fire, a magical device which was a gift to our world from Chrestomanci a long, long time ago." Dumbledore smiled, "Do you see?"

"Not quite," said the strange boy, "I still don't see why I'm here."

"Just a few moments ago, the Goblet did something it has never done before. It chose a fourth champion. I assume this triggered it to call for you, in an effort to correct itself." He peered at the young man from over his half-moon spectacles. "Am I correct in assuming that you have just recently been appointed Chrestomanci?"

"Well – yes," the boy said uncomfortably, "It's more of a temporary fix than anything. But I can take a look at the Goblet if you want."

"Indeed, that would be most kind of you," Dumbledore said warmly. "Now that that is settled," he turned to Harry, "I may ask you, Harry; did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire?"

"No," said Harry, as the attention of the room swung back to him. There was a soft noise of impatient disbelief from the shadows.

"Did you ask an older student to put it into the Goblet of Fire for you?" said Professor Dumbledore, ignoring Snape.

"No," said Harry vehemently.

"Ah, but of course 'e is lying!" cried Madame Maxime. Snape was now shaking his head, his lip curling.

"He could not have crossed the Age Line," a stern-looking older woman interjected, "I am sure we are all agreed on that -"

"Dumbly-dorr must 'ave made a mistake wiz ze line," said Madame Maxime, shrugging.

"It is possible, of course," said Dumbledore politely.

"Dumbledore, you know perfectly well you did not make a mistake!" said the woman, "Really, what nonsense! Harry could not have crossed the line himself, and as Professor Dumbledore believes that he did not persuade an older student to do it for him, I'm sure that should be good enough for everybody else!"

She shot a very angry look at the man still lurking in the shadows.

"Mr. Crouch… Mr. Bagman," said Karkaroff, his voice unctuous once more, "you are our – er – objective judges. Surely you will agree that this is most irregular?"

The cheerful man who had been talking as they walked in wiped his round, boyish face with his handkerchief and looked at a gaunt man who was standing outside the circle of firelight.

He responded curtly, "We must follow the rules, and the rules state clearly that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the Tournament."

"Well, Barty knows the rule book back to front," said the boyish man, beaming and turning back to the others, as though the matter was now closed.

"I insist upon resubmitting the names of the rest of my students," said Karkaroff. He had dropped his unctuous tone and his smile now. His face wore a very ugly look indeed. "You will set up the Goblet of Fire once more, and we will continue adding names until each school has two champions. It's only fair, Dumbledore."

"But Karkaroff, it doesn't work like that," said Bagman. "The Goblet of Fire's just gone out - it won't reignite until the start of the next tournament -"

"- in which Durmstrang will most certainly not be competing!" exploded Karkaroff. "After all our meetings and negotiations and compromises, I little expected something of this nature to occur! I have half a mind to leave now!"

"Empty threat, Karkaroff," growled a voice from near the door. "You can't leave your champion now. He's got to compete. They've all got to compete. Binding magical contract, like Dumbledore said. Convenient, eh?"

A grizzled old man with a multitude of scars had just entered the room. He limped toward the fire, and with every right step he took, there was a loud clunk.

"Convenient?" said Karkaroff, "I'm afraid I don't understand you, Moody." Despite his disdainful tone, his hands were nervously clenching themselves into fists.

"Don't you?" said the old man quietly, "It's very simple, Karkaroff. Someone put Potter's name in that Goblet knowing he'd have to compete if it came out."

The argument continued back and forth between the suspicious old man and the skeptical Headmaster and Headmistress, until Moody began exclaiming about what a powerful magical object the Goblet was, and how difficult it would be to trick, and the stranger saw a need to interrupt.

"I'm sorry, but this is taking far too long," he said, "Why don't I just take a look at this Goblet thing and let you know what's wrong with it – then I can finally get some rest. I've had a bit of a long day."

"An excellent suggestion, young man," said Dumbledore, "Moody, why don't you go bring us the Goblet so that we can examine it together."

As Moody left, muttering under his breath, Karkaroff's attention swung back to the stranger in their midst. "And who are you, exactly? Where did you come from?"

The young boy gave him an unimpressed look and said simply, "I'm Chrestomanci."

Karkaroff decided to ignore his tone and turned to Dumbledore. "Well, Dumbledore? You seem to have some knowledge of this boy, at least."

Dumbledore merely gave him a smile. "Why, I'm surprised at you, Karkaroff. Surely you did some reading on the history of the Triwizard Tournament before attending? It was many centuries ago, but I believe the Tournament was started with the help of a Chrestomanci, to help settle a certain dispute between our schools. He kindly left us the Goblet of Fire so that we could continue the tradition with a perfectly impartial judge, and apparently," he glanced at the young man who had appeared, "he included a failsafe."

Karkaroff looked like he wasn't convinced, but Moody had just reentered the room carrying the Goblet, which now looked like an ordinary, if rather heavy, cup without the flames it had been spewing before.

"Ah, Moody, thank you," said Dumbledore, "if you could kindly hand it to Mr. Chrestomanci, then, I'm sure we can resolve this to the satisfaction of all involved."

Moody stumped over, but hesitated before giving him the Goblet. "What are you?" he asked abruptly, his blue eye focused keenly on the young man in front of him, "You're not a wizard, are you?"

"I'm an enchanter, not a wizard," said the boy, plucking the Goblet from his hands, "And it's just Chrestomanci, thank you, not Mr. Chrestomanci." He held the Goblet up to catch the flickering firelight and his eyes went unfocused like he was looking at something else. "It's no use," he said after a moment, "it's done now, and I don't know enough to see exactly what happened. We'll have to wait for Gabriel to get here, which shouldn't be too long, actually."

As if on a signal, a great boom echoed throughout the castle, shaking the halls.

"That's probably him now," said the young man, handing the Goblet back to Moody, "I hope he isn't too mad. This time it wasn't my fault at all."

* * *

AN: Sorry if there are any mistakes, it's been a while since I've read both of these books. A majority of the dialogue is, of course, straight from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, but hopefully the following chapters will be more original.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, especially most of the dialogue in this chapter.

* * *

**Chapter 2**

Christopher Chant had just had a long day. A very, very long day, possibly the longest in his life. Starting with Tacroy being arrested, the Goddess suddenly showing up in his world, the whole revelation about the Wraith and his Uncle, and then the confrontation with the Dright in Series Eleven, he was just about ready to keel over from exhaustion. The energy from his new life was kicking in, now that his old one had gone up in flames, but after the relief of finally having brought Gabriel back, he thought he definitely deserved a rest.

And then suddenly he was yanked back out of his world and into a crowded, vaguely medieval looking building, and people were expecting him to be Chrestomanci and fix all their problems for them! And though technically, it was in the job description, Christopher had only been Chrestomanci for a few hours while Gabriel was gone. Now that he was back, and everything was all sorted out, Christopher rather assumed that Gabriel would be Chrestomanci again. Apparently not.

Well, at least now Gabriel could deal with whatever problems this world was having. It had been exciting to be Chrestomanci for a day, but Christopher was thoroughly ready to give the title back to Gabriel until Christopher was much older, and ready to deal with all the politics of inter-world magical relations.

* * *

Harry Potter was very confused. He was probably in shock, actually, and all the negative reactions he was getting from the people around him didn't help. The one bright spot was that Dumbledore, at least, believed that he hadn't put his name in the Goblet, and that this strange new boy – Chrestomanci? – was taking at least some of the attention off of him.

So it was with a bit of relief that Harry followed Dumbledore and everyone else out of the small back room and back into the Great Hall, where a rather grim old man in an well-tailored silk suit was slowly drifting down through the candles from the ceiling of the great hall, which now rather resembled a tornado centered around their new visitor.

"Ah. Christopher. I see you have come to no harm," said the old man, glancing at the boy in the tiger-skin, "Also I see that you took on the title of Chrestomanci while I was gone." He gave a piercing look at the boy – Christopher now? – before turning to survey the shocked faces in the room, "A wise move, perhaps, but now you see the downside. Chrestomanci must always come when he is called. Luckily, it was fairly easy to figure out what happened since the tracking devices were still set up to look for me." He gave a sharp nod, as if to himself. "Well done, by the way. Some very accurate spellwork."

"Excuse me, dear sir," said Dumbledore, who seemed to be the only one not totally struck dumb by this imposing new figure, "May I assume that you are Gabriel, this young man's predecessor?"

"Indeed," replied Gabriel, "And you would be the leader of this world? Or perhaps just this school?" He glanced around once more, coolly assessing. "This is Hogwarts, I presume?"

"Now wait just a moment," said Karkaroff, who seemed rather irked at being ignored, "Dumbledore is certainly not the leader of this world, and you had better explain yourself, as you have just broken into Hogwarts – "

"Of which I am Headmaster, Karkaroff, thank you," interrupted Dumbledore. "As the host of this year's Triwizard Tournament, Hogwarts welcomes you to our world, Mr. Gabriel."

"Please," said Gabriel, drifting lower, "Call me Chrestomanci. Now, what is the urgent matter that has called Christopher away so soon after he returned home?"

"I believe that Christopher has been drawn here by the Goblet of Fire, a gift from your world to ours many years ago," said Dumbledore. "If you could perhaps take a look at it?"

"Of course," said Gabriel, his feet finally touching the ground. He held out his hand and Christopher walked over to hand him the Goblet. He gave it a brief glance and then sighed, closing his eyes. "Christopher," he said after a moment, "What have you gotten into now?"

"Umm… I don't know?" said Christopher with a sheepish shrug.

"This object forms a magically binding contract with whoever is chosen," said Gabriel, opening his eyes, "And I'm afraid you will have to stay on this world until that contract is fulfilled."

"Oh," said Christopher, blinking, "Well… it wasn't my fault?"

"No, in this case it was not," Gabriel turned once more to Dumbledore, "If you could please explain to me the extent of this contract, I would be much obliged."

"Certainly," said Dumbledore, "If everyone involved could follow me back to the chamber we set aside for this purpose, Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch can explain the rules of the Tournament to us all."

Gabriel nodded stiffly and Harry turned with some relief back to the room they had come from. Now that he was really involved with this, he'd like to at least get some answers as to what in the world was going on.

* * *

"The Triwizard Tournament," Dumbledore began, "traditionally consists of three wizards, one from each of our three schools, competing in three tasks which take place over the course of the year. Apparently, this year will be atypical, as the Goblet of Fire has chosen four – or perhaps five – champions to compete. It is meant to encourage unity within the magical community."

"An admirable goal," nodded Gabriel.

"Well, shall we crack on then?" said Bagman, rubbing his hands together and smiling around the room. "Got to give our champions their instructions, haven't we? Barty, want to do the honours?"

Mr. Crouch seemed to come out of a deep reverie.

"Yes," he said, "instructions. Yes… the first task…"

He moved forward into the firelight. Close up, Harry thought he looked ill.

There were dark shadows beneath his eyes and a thin, papery look about his wrinkled skin that had not been there at the Quidditch World Cup.

"The first task is designed to test your daring," he told the gathered champions, "so we are not going to be telling you what it is. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard… very important.

"The first task will take place on November the twenty-fourth, in front of the other students and the panel of judges.

"The champions are not permitted to ask for or accept help of any kind from their teachers to complete the tasks in the tournament. The champions will face the first challenge armed only with their wands. They will receive information about the second task when the first is over. Owing to the demanding and time-consuming nature of the tournament, the champions are exempted from end-of-year tests."

Mr. Crouch turned to look at Dumbledore.

"I think that's all, is it, Albus?"

"I think so," said Dumbledore, who was looking at Mr. Crouch with mild concern. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay at Hogwarts tonight, Barty?"

"No, Dumbledore, I must get back to the Ministry," said Mr. Crouch. "It is a very busy, very difficult time at the moment… I've left young Weatherby in charge… Very enthusiastic… a little overenthusiastic, if truth be told…"

"You'll come and have a drink before you go, at least?" said Dumbledore.

"Come on, Barty, I'm staying!" said Bagman brightly. "It's all happening at Hogwarts now, you know, much more exciting here than at the office!"

"I think not, Ludo," said Crouch with a touch of his old impatience.

"Professor Karkaroff - Madame Maxime - a nightcap?" said Dumbledore. "This would be a wonderful opportunity for us to get to know Chrestomanci, and I'm sure he will be staying for a while."

"Unfortunately, I'm afraid I must go," said Gabriel, "My world is just now recovering from a series of particularly devastating events, and I need to be there to supervise the reconstruction." He turned to Christopher, "I will be sending Mordecai Roberts here once I return home, as it appears you will be staying in this world for quite a while. Please do try to stay out of trouble until he arrives," with a meaningful glance, "Mordecai was quite worried when you disappeared on us."

Madame Maxine and Karkaroff seemed to be quite offended by the way Gabriel was ignoring them, and they left in a silent huff with their champions.

"Chrestomanci – Gabriel," said Christopher, ignoring their exit, "would it be possible for the Goddess – I mean Millie – to come as well? She doesn't really know anyone in our world, and I promised her I'd help." Gabriel seemed to be considering this, and Christopher added, "Plus, this is a school, right? She wanted to go to school, and Mother Proudfoot gave you all those diamonds so she could."

"Indeed," said Gabriel, "I shall ask her where she should like to go. She would probably follow you to whatever world you choose." A slight smile seemed to flit across his face, but it was so brief that Harry couldn't be sure. "She seems to think you are lonely, and I fear she may be right. In that case, a school like this is probably the best place for you at the moment."

Gabriel stood and walked over to Dumbledore. "And now I really must go," he said, "But I shall hope to return soon and clear up any complications which arise. Farewell." And with a brief nod, he was gone.

"Well," said Dumbledore, smiling at the three young men left in the room, "Harry, Cedric, I suggest you go up to bed. I am sure Gryffindor and Hufflepuff are waiting to celebrate with you, and it would be a shame to deprive them of this excellent excuse to make a great deal of mess and noise."

Harry and Cedric glanced curiously at Christopher, but they both nodded and left together.

* * *

"So, my dear boy," said Dumbledore once everyone else had filtered out, "I'm sure you have plenty of questions, as do I."

"Well…" said Christopher, "it would be nice to finally get some answers, but first, could I have some clothes to wear? Whatever's normal for here?" It was nice to finally be off his feet in a comfortable chair, but the tiger skin was getting kind of itchy, and he was sure the people here would take him much more seriously if he wasn't in this ridiculous getup. Stupid Dright, he grumbled to himself.

"Of course!" said Dumbledore, smiling, and he transfigured Christopher's clothes into a Hogwarts robe with a wave of his wand. "I hope this is agreeable, Christopher? May I call you Christopher?"

"Sure," agreed Christopher, "I guess I'm not really Chrestomanci yet anyway."

"Ah, now that is a question I have for you," said Dumbledore, "I must admit that although I have heard nothing but good things about Chrestomanci, it is all rather vague, as it has been many long years since our world was last visited by yours."

"Well, you said this world was 12 B, right?" said Christopher, and continued as Dumbledore nodded, "We come from 12 A, right next door, I suppose, and the Chrestomanci is in charge of basically all magic in the worlds of Series 12. And sometimes other Series. I think. Only nine-lived enchanters can be Chrestomanci, and right now, that's just Gabriel and me. And perhaps Throgmorten. But he's a cat, so he wouldn't want to be Chrestomanci."

"I see," said Dumbledore, peering intently at Christopher as if he could see right through him. "And how old are you, young man?"

"Huh?" said Christopher, a bit startled. "Well, twelve, I guess. Or maybe thirteen by now?"

"Really?" said Dumbledore, eyebrows rising, "You look much older than that. And you are unsure?"

"Well, I've had a bit of a chaotic life," Christopher admitted, "but my parents probably know. And Chrestomanci. He knows just about everything." There was perhaps a slight trace of bitterness in that last statement.

"You said that you were an enchanter, not a wizard," said Dumbledore, looking thoughtful. "Have you had any schooling in magic?"

"Quite a bit, actually," said Christopher, "although it's been pretty chaotic too. I went to a boarding school for a bit, where I was absolutely terrible and learned nothing, but then Dr. Pawson figured out it was all because of silver, and he taught me some really useful things for a while." He smiled in fond remembrance. "Then Chrestomanci found me and I had to go live at Chrestomanci Castle, where the lessons were absolutely boring. The most I learned there was actually just in the last 24 hours or so, since we were fighting the Wraith and all. I know how to do basic summoning and to make myself invisible, I know a bit about pentagrams and dragon's blood," he paused for a brief shudder, "And I know a lot about the Related Worlds, although not much about this one. In fact," he looked a bit puzzled, "I thought you didn't even have magic. Last time I came here it was all locomotives and smoke, although that was a while ago. I didn't see any magic then. What happened?"

"It seems you've had an exciting life!" said Dumbledore, eyes twinkling. "It must be quite a story. As for this world…" he grew a bit more solemn, "Wizards are hidden in this world. The Muggles – non-magical people – know nothing about us."

"Well that's stupid," said Christopher, making a face, "Why should we hide from them?"

"Perhaps this is a discussion for another time," said Dumbledore gently, "For now, we should find you a comfortable place to settle down for the night."

"Ah!" said Christopher, as a familiar presence approached, "Tacroy's here!" He jumped up and ran out into the now empty Great Hall, where a vague figure was gradually coming into focus in the center of the room. Dumbledore followed him out more sedately and watched as a tall, smiling man with coffee-colored skin and curly hair slowly coalesced and immediately swept Christopher into a hug.

"Christopher!" he exclaimed with a laugh, "It is so good to see you!" The man had many lines of suffering on his face, especially around his eyes, but he glowed with a brightness of spirit. He picked Christopher up and whirled him around, then dropped to his knees before the young boy after setting him down. He looked a bit out of place in his crumpled but expensive looking silk suit, but he didn't seem to notice. He had eyes only for the boy in front of him. "Christopher," he repeated in a more serious tone, "I can never thank you enough. As I said before, I really am your man now, until the day I die. Thank you."

"Don't worry about it, Tacroy," said Christopher with a slight blush. "I see you're here in the flesh?"

"Yes. We still had the World Gate set up, so I came through that."

"And the Goddess?"

"Doing fine. Chrestomanci convinced her to stay at the castle, so she can show him where your lost life is, but I expect we'll be seeing her as soon as she can get away, probably tomorrow." He looked up. "Perhaps, in the meantime, you could introduce me to your friend here?"

"Oh, yeah," said Christopher, reminded of his manners, "Dumbledore, this is Tac- I mean, Mordecai Roberts, a great friend of mine. Mordecai, this is Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts. He seems to be in charge around here."

"Pleased to meet you, sir," said Mordecai, striding over to shake hands with Dumbledore.

"Likewise, I'm sure," replied Dumbledore. "Perhaps you two would care to follow me up to my office? There is a guest bedroom attached where you can rest for tonight at least."

Mordecai and Christopher were agreeable to this offer, so they followed Dumbledore through several confusing passages before stopping in front of a stone gargoyle. By this time, Christopher's exhaustion was beginning to catch up with him, and he leaned heavily on Mordecai when they paused.

"Sugar quills," said Dumbledore to the statue, which came alive and leapt out of their way. Christopher hesitated, then tiredly followed Mordecai and Dumbledore up the moving staircase that was revealed.

* * *

A little while later, Christopher was finally lying down on a soft bed, in a rather nice set of school pajamas, and he was all settled for the night. Only now that he was comfortable he couldn't seem to relax enough to fall asleep. He had never fallen asleep in an Anywhere before, he always scrambled back through the Place Between before actually sleeping. Of course, that was when he was spirit travelling, apparently, so this really wasn't the same.

"Tacroy?" said Christopher.

"Yes?" said Tacroy, who was changing into the nightclothes that had been provided to them on the other side of the room.

"I can still call you Tacroy, right?"

"Of course," said Tacroy, "Although perhaps not in front of everybody else. A spirit name can be a powerful weapon in the right hands – or the wrong ones."

Christopher nodded, but that wasn't what he was really worried about. He fiddled with an edge of the blanket, and Tacroy shot him a knowing look. "Don't worry, I talked to Gabriel a bit before I came and he seemed to think this world is safe. Hogwarts has a good reputation." He walked over to the bed on the other side of the room. "Besides, Gabriel will be here in the morning and he'll clear everything up. Now get under the covers and get some sleep."

Reassured, Christopher hastened to snuggle into his blankets – the bed was really quite comfortable – and quickly drifted off to sleep, finally ending his very, very long day.

Dumbledore, meanwhile, was conducting a rather intensive search for anything about Chrestomanci, but he wasn't turning up much. A nine-lived enchanter… this certainly bore some serious looking into.

* * *

AN: I'm not quite sure if I liked this chapter, but I do like Tacroy. I hope I can do his character justice, because he's fascinating. I'm going to try to post consistently and in a timely fashion, but I can't make any promises. Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

AN: I would like to apologize most profusely for how late this chapter is.

* * *

**Chapter 3**

The next morning, Tacroy managed to get Christopher up and dressed in the robes provided despite a series of complaints (a dress? I look like a girl!), and was just wondering what they were supposed to do for breakfast when a strange creature wearing nothing but rags appeared in the middle of the room with a loud 'pop.'

"Excuse me, sirs," said the little gnome-like being, "Master Dumbledore is sending me to bring you your breakfast, sirs." His huge ears twitched and Christopher couldn't help but stare in fascination. What in the world _is_ it, he wondered.

"Ah… thank you," said Tacroy, as a table heaped with food appeared behind the nervous creature. It gave a small squeak and seemed to shrink in on itself even smaller.

"My names is Pinky, sirs," it said in a rush. "You can call me if you needs me!" And with another pop, it was gone.

"Well, we certainly won't starve," said Tacroy in good humor, looking over the table. "This is enough to feed twice as many of us!"

Indeed, the food was delicious, much better than at Chrestomanci Castle, in Christopher's opinion. By the time he was finished, he felt he would have to be rolled out of the room, but Tacroy managed to get both of them out and back into Dumbledore's office, which Christopher found fascinating enough to stop being miserably stuffed.

It reminded him very much of Dr. Pawson's office, with all the doodads and magical trinkets. He tried to imagine Dumbledore floating around in an armchair shouting, "Empty your pockets, Chant!" and found himself having to suppress a giggle. Dumbledore was much more like Chrestomanci than Dr. Pawson, although a lot less dour.

Christopher's musings were interrupted by Dumbledore himself, who swept into the room a moment after they arrived.

"Ah, I thought you would be done by now," said Dumbledore. "I was wondering how you were planning to meet up with Chrestomanci?"

"That's easy enough," said Tacroy. He turned and spoke clearly into an empty corner of the room, "Chrestomanci, Chrestomanci, Chrestomanci." And he was there.

He seemed to have been in the middle of some sort of paperwork, as he was sitting in a dark wooden chair holding a pen.

"Ah," he said in a distracted fashion, "I see you are finally up. Please wait just a moment." And he was gone again.

"You know," said Dumbledore, "That is something I had been meaning to ask you. How can you come and go so easily from Hogwarts? It is supposed to be protected."

"Chrestomanci is the most powerful enchanter in the world," said Christopher, with a hint of envy. "He can do anything."

"Also, I believe our magic is rather different from yours," said Tacroy, "Chrestomanci was only here in spirit, and he is the only one who can spirit travel so easily. I was only able to come here in the flesh because we had a World Gate set up, which I suspect Chrestomanci is coming through right now. It is a more gradual process."

Indeed, even as he spoke a distortion was beginning to form in the air where Chrestomanci had been a moment ago, which slowly resolved itself into two figures, one rather tall and the other a bit shorter than Christopher. The tall one turned out to be Chrestomanci, who was holding the hand of a young girl around Christopher's age holding a rather large suitcase.

"Christopher!" she exclaimed, dropping the suitcase as soon as she saw him, "It's so good to see you! You just disappeared out of nowhere, you know that?" She ran over to where he was standing awkwardly and embraced him. "And I brought Proudfoot and Throgmorten, he'll be so pleased to see you, he was tearing the castle up while you were gone."

"It's good to see you, too, Millie," said Christopher in a muffled voice, "I guess you decided to come to this world with Chrestomanci, then?"

"Well, of course I did," said Millie as she released him. "I had to see if this school was good enough, didn't I? In the books, it's very important which school you attend."

"Right," said Christopher, remembering her obsession with the Millie schoolgirl books.

"If we could all sit down," said Chrestomanci, in a tone which indicated that this was not a suggestion. Christopher and Millie hurriedly found themselves chairs next to where he was already sitting. "Shall we get down to business then," he said, turning to Dumbledore. This was not a suggestion either.

"Yes, indeed," said Dumbledore, settling into his own rather comfortable looking stuffed armchair. The chair reminded Christopher of Dr. Pawson again and he had to stifle a snigger. "As I informed you last night, Christopher was called here by the Goblet of Fire, and he will be competing in the Triwizard Tournament as a representative for his school over the next school year."

There was a sudden drop of temperature in the room. "I'm sorry," said Chrestomanci stiffly, "did you say that Christopher had to compete in this ridiculous tournament? I was under the impression that he was merely to stay in this world to observe."

"That is what I had assumed as well, but after speaking to our judges from the Ministry of Magic, it became clear to me that anyone whose name is called by the Goblet of Fire must compete in the Tournament. It is a magically binding contract, as I said before."

"Contracts can be broken," said Chrestomanci in an unconcerned tone, but then he hesitated and turned to Christopher. "Do you wish to compete in this… school tournament… Christopher?"

"Sure," agreed Christopher readily. Anything to get out of Chrestomanci Castle. Even though he realized it was mostly his fault, he still didn't have many good memories there. "It would be a great practical application of magic, right? I mean…" with a hopeful glance at Dumbledore, "you are allowed to do magic in this tournament thing, right?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "Hogwarts is a school of magic, young man. That is rather the point."

"I was meaning to address that," said Chrestomanci, "My predecessors indicated that they thought very highly of Hogwarts, but I should like to see for myself before allowing Christopher to stay here. If need be, I can have his tutors come here, or, of course, I could simply destroy this troublesome goblet."

"Oh, please don't do that! It was a gift, right?" said Christopher, "Wouldn't that be rude? And I don't need any of my tutors, I'm sure they have teachers here."

Chrestomanci gave Christopher a long look and simply said, "We shall see."

"I hate to interrupt," said Tacroy, "but I do think it might be better for Christopher to be around children of his own age. It can't be good for him to spend his whole childhood in an old castle with just the staff."

"There had been a suggestion that we bring in other young sorcerers and such to learn with Christopher at the castle."

"At Chrestomanci Castle? The heart of magical power? Are you sure? It was chaotic enough with just Christopher there, didn't he die several times while wandering around the castle?"

"I would think that would speak more to Christopher's penchant for trouble than to any deficit on the part of my staff," said Chrestomanci stiffly, "But I can see what you mean. He did indeed take up much of our time when we had to cast safety spells over every part of the castle so that he would not foolishly fall out of a window again." He shot a disapproving glare at Christopher and turned back to the Headmaster. "Very well then. Please tell me about your school, so I may see if it is a fitting establishment for Christopher."

"And me," added Millie.

"And Millie," he acknowledged.

"Wonderful!" said Dumbledore, eyes twinkling. He seemed to be quite enjoying this. "I would be glad to show you around. It has been such a long time since Hogwarts has had visitors from another world."

"Unfortunately, I am a very busy man, and I have no time for a tour. Please tell me what courses you offer, who the teachers are, and what qualifications they have."

Christopher mostly didn't pay attention to the rest of the conversation, as it was very lengthy, very polite, and very boring, except to note that Chrestomanci unfortunately wasn't entirely convinced that he wouldn't need tutors here. Bother. Still, the important thing was that the Goddess was here (or Millie, he supposed he should call her now) and so was Tacroy (or Mordecai – this name thing was going to be confusing, wasn't it?), so he was happy. This was what he had wanted after all, wasn't it? He was unhappy at Chrestomanci Castle because Tacroy and the Goddess weren't there. And other reasons, of course. A whole year away from Gabriel and Chrestomanci Castle with his two friends sounded like the best prize anyone could give him for beating the Wraith and rescuing Gabriel.

It was too bad he was leaving just as he was beginning to like some of the people in the castle, and wanting them to like him. Miss Rosalie, Yolande and Beryl, Erica the maid, the bootboy – even Flavian. Now he wouldn't have a chance to prove to Flavian that he wasn't just a bundle of worthless lives. But he knew he was going back eventually, so it wasn't too worrying. He would have to be Chrestomanci someday, at least now he wasn't dreading it like before – in fact, he would probably quite enjoy it.

Christopher noticed everyone was looking at him and realized he must have missed something. "What?" he said intelligently.

Dumbledore smiled kindly. "I was just wondering if – "

Chrestomanci interrupted disapprovingly. "You might pay attention as your future is decided, Christopher. We are working very hard to insure that the time you spend here is instructive and useful. You have a duty as the next Chrestomanci to learn as much about magic as you can. You must do this properly, Christopher."

After everything he had done, it was back to _that_ again? "Properly? I did fine being Chrestomanci yesterday. I saved your lives!"

Chrestomanci sighed, "And I am grateful, but you must see the bigger picture. I am far too busy to mentor you myself, but you must get a thorough understanding of magic. You can't always leap ahead blindly as you have been doing until now. Even you don't have enough lives for that."

"Don't worry, Gabriel, I'll look after him," intervened Tacroy, as Christopher's intense glare showed all signs of this developing into a full-fledged fight. (shouting match?)

"Thank you, Mordecai." said Gabriel and closed his eyes for a moment as if to regain his composure before addressing Christopher once more. "I may not have the time to help you as I should, Christopher, but I will send Flavian after lunch to arrange some sort of schedule and I will stop by as often as I can to instruct you in those areas of enchanters magic which you cannot learn from anybody else." He rose and turned as if to leave, then paused to look seriously at Christopher. "Just one more thing, Christopher. If you lose even one life this year, I will bring you home immediately, and you will not leave our world again for at least a year. Do I make myself clear?" he ended firmly.

Christopher nodded grudgingly (it wasn't like he tried to die, it just happened a lot). Dumbledore chose this moment to break the rising tension in the room. "Leaving so soon?" he asked politely. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay for lunch, or perhaps a tour of the castle? I would love to hear about your world, it sounds fascinating."

"Perhaps some other time."

"I look forward to it," smiled Dumbledore. "Since it seems to be no great burden for you to travel back and forth, would you consent to be a judge in the tournament? It seems the right thing to do, as Christopher will be competing as the champion of your school – Chrestomanci Castle, I believe?"

"Very well," accepted Chrestomanci. "Mordecai, I leave these two in your care. Please see to it that they have everything that they need. As I said earlier, I will send Flavian to arrange the details of their education. If that is all?" He waited until Dumbledore nodded and then he was gone.

The room seemed oddly empty without Chrestomanci's rather intimidating presence, and Christopher took a moment to revel in his stroke of luck. He was free! For a whole year!

His attention was distracted from his internal celebrations when Dumbledore began to speak again. "As I was asking earlier, Christopher, do you have a wand? I haven't noticed any of you carrying one."

"We don't use wands in our world," answered Tacroy for him. "I'm sure we will find many differences in the way magic is used in our respective worlds."

"Really," said Dumbledore with a thoughtful look, "Then perhaps we should find you wands for your time here."

"I don't need a wand," said Christopher immediately, at the same time Tacroy said, "That would be great." At Christopher's questioning look, he explained, "It would be good to blend in as much as we can." Christopher gave him a look that showed he obviously didn't think this was possible, but he nodded anyway.

"If you are planning to attend Hogwarts, there are certain supplies which you will need for classes, as well as a wand. These can all be found in Diagon Alley, and a trip there can be arranged whenever you're ready," offered Dumbledore.

"Won't we need money?" asked Millie with a slightly worried look. "I have some spending money from Chrestomanci, but it probably isn't the currency of this world."

"I'll talk with Flavian about all the money matters when he gets here," assured Tacroy. "We should probably get you settled in first if you're going to stay here. On that note," he turned to Dumbledore, "Where exactly are we going to stay? I assume the guest room isn't really meant for permanent visitors, since it opens directly into your office."

Dumbledore chuckled, "No, indeed, that could lead to some very awkward mornings. Well, our guests from Beauxbatons are staying in their carriage and those from Durmstrang are sleeping on their ship, but you are welcome to stay at the castle. Perhaps you would like to stay with the other students in their dormitories?"

"Yes!" agreed Christopher enthusiastically, then he saw the look on Millie's face. "What's wrong?"

"Well, it's just – I've never…" she hesitated.

"Oh," said Christopher. "Well, maybe we could stay somewhere else until you're comfortable here and then move into the dormitories?"

Millie could tell that Christopher really wanted to stay with the other students, but she couldn't help herself from nodding gratefully. It was just too much all at once, after spending her whole life in the temple.

"In that case, I do have some other rooms that you could stay in for the time being. I can have one of the house elves show you the way, if you'd like to settle in?"

* * *

AN: Again, sorry this is so late. I really meant to have it finished much earlier, but life has been busy. I hope to have the next chapter up sooner. Also, thank you very much for all the reviews! I'm not quite sure how to reply to them, or whether that is the polite thing to do, but they made me very happy and encouraged me to keep writing. Thank you!


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